The Last Stand
by Perished Hope
Summary: A convicted murder from the Monster world is banished to the same swamp as Randall was. A revenge-obsessed monster seeks to find the one whom changed her life forever. A man, scared as a child by a monster, tries to make them known to put a stop to them.
1. The Banishment

The Last Stand By Julie K. ( kossmoe_chan@hotmail.com ) Fanfiction.net name : Perished Hope  
  
Author's Note: o_o; yes, I am sick, twisted and...uh...stupid? ^_^; please don't kill me because I write like crap and my stories have plots that are crap. Heheh, I'm just bored.... :D *peace out*  
  
PS: don't mind the mispellings...typing this in WordPad...I'm gonna die o.o *dies* *gets reincarnated by the cheese monsters* ^_^  
  
~*~*~  
  
Chapter One: Banishment ~*~*~  
  
The florescent lights fell upon the shape like headlights on a deer, and her eyes glittered relentlessly.  
  
The light was almost burning her eyes, it was so bright, but she didn't blink, nor did she say a word. Her face read expressionless, as her gray- blue fur blew back in forth with the venalation system above her. The vents made a hollow sound which echoed deeply, but the gray-blue monster never twitched a muscle. Her eyes were a yellow color, fierce and intellegent, like a hawk's eyes. Her gaze was down-right frightening, and she did all in her power to live up to that physical apperance.  
  
She was tall, slender, and a dark, faded gray-blue color in her fur color. Her numerous claws spelt destruction from her three sets of limbs, two used for hands and one used for powerful legs. The leg set had larger claws and muscles then the hands, at any rate. At the moment, she had her hand claws retracted, safely placed under a sheath deep in her fingers. Her claws were sharp, and she followed the instinct of a Velociraptor to keep them sharp for her next kill.  
  
Her claws were as black as the endless void, as was the blade on the end of her tail. Her tail was long, thin and whip-like, but the muscles in it were absolute. Her tail was suspended in the air, cocked a little below her head, looking like a scorpian ready to strike at any moment. She had appendiges hanging from her head like flappy ears, but there were six in all. Each one was tipped with a dark navy blue.  
  
The florescent lights came from the top of the small cell she was in, a prison cell. The Monster world held their convicted in cells before they banished them, nonetheless. The stay was horrible, and there was little food to be donated to the prisons, and in consequince, there was little food for those whom accomidated them.  
  
She turned her head to the little screen moniter provided by Monsters Inc. to keep the accomidators busy, and keep their minds off of escaping. The manufacturing company for power had recently bonded with the police, and the prisoners were held in a seperate add-on to the factory until a door that would suit the crime was produced. The traffic during the working hours was horrendous, and there was often not enough time to produce a door suitable. Lest the prisoners become aggrivated and attempt to escape (Though some did anyway, attempt, that is), most consequinces to their actions took place after the working hours were done, and the factory was as bare as a desert on a hot day.  
  
"Jigai Shoshitsu."  
  
The monster in the cell turned her head slightly and looked at the other screen moniter, as a profile shot appeared of a monster she knew well talking to her. Her ears twitched at the sound of her name, but she didn't make any other move but that.  
  
"Your sentance is to be commuted today at dismissal of the factory workers. A perfect door has been chosen for you, one you shall ...eh, enjoy going to. Consider it a perminate vacation." The face on the screen smirked. Jigai laughed flatly, causing the face on the moniter to loose the amusement and humor.  
  
"Indeed, Mom. I'll be sure to arrive promptly." She smirked darkly, and held up the chains that binded her sets of arms together. She also nodded down to the collar she had been forced to wear, with spikes around its cirmocumferance. Instead of being like a dog collar with the spikes along the outside, the spikes were turned inside with the spikes jutting into her neck. Blood had been draining from the puncture holes, and the maroon color of dried blood had hardened on her fur. She smirked again, as she saw the blank look the attendant had.  
  
"Well, Mom, what time do I depart?" Her face became blank, but she still had that raging relentlessness deep in her yellow eyes. The face on the screen resumed the usual, and shuffled through his papers, whispering her last name, Shoshitsu, to himself quietly as he looked up her records.  
  
"Promptly at 8:00 pm," The face said, with a blank expression yet again. He was what they all called the Prison Warden. Many of the occupants had decided to call him "Mom," a trend that Jigai had started as a form of mockery. She looked back up at the screen as the face dissapeared, revealing a black void that reflected her face. She slowly looked to the clock, and read the numbers slowly to herself. There was well around five hours until her scheduled banishment, and she loathed waiting.  
  
Her eyes hardened as she put a hand up to her wounds on her neck, and a claw popped out of her index finger. The aching of the wound had stopped, and she was, in a way, greatful to that. Though she was used to pain and suffering, no one likes to have a lulling pain in the back of their mind when they are trying to concentrate on bigger issues. She then, to pass away the time, attempted to chisel off all of the dried blood. After all, you only get banished once, and she was intent to cause quiet and interesting spectacle.  
  
~*~*~  
  
There was a sudden pounding and Jigai was awoken from her light sleep. She had learned to sleep lightly ever since she was little, and dreamed of blowing up things. It seemed to work, and her hawk eyes flickered open on the first pound. She was dozing off there a couple of hours ago, and flakes of dried blood littered the floor in a skewed out way. Her claws, however, had no blood on them, as she liked them to be perfectly clean.  
  
She saw the face of the Assistant Warden (the one who really did all the work, while the Warden got all the credit. He didn't seem to mind, though) looking through the extra-strong glass that was apart of the door to her cell. The glass was fogged from his breath, and the image of him became blurry and distorted through the plexi-glass covering.  
  
She was sleeping like a cat, and not on a bed. She, in fact, was under the bed, with her tail curled around her body for warmth. The venalation system in the cell was only working with cooling for the time being. The blade of her tail was positioned next to her head, as if she was protecting herself night and day, even whilst she rest.  
  
Jigai poked her head out from under the bed and used her three sets of limbs to walk like a four-legged animal, until she was completely out from under the bed. When she reached the door, she reared up and sat back on her back legs, her arm limbs dangling at her sides. Her face rose up from the floor to eye level with the Assistant Warden. He flinched a little at the how her eyes seemed like voids-- no soul or spirit behind them, like her body was a useless husk that was just another filmy body to be throw into the human world and forgotten.  
  
But they wouldn't forget her. The Monster world would have known her to be the most devious criminal since the Wild Suicide, a monster who has pretty much put himself in the book as the meanest creature ever alive. She wanted some good recognition for being the dark creature she was, but she overheard the authorities speaking to the head Monsters Inc. associates. She didn't hear the full discussion, for blood had been leaking out of her ears, but she could tell they didn't want to make her murders public.  
  
The Assitant Warden unlocked the door, and she noticed that behind him there were about six guards with guns. They were different shapes and sizes, but she noticed one thing in common about them: They were green and inexperianced, and they had a wavering fear in their eyes. She smiled inwardly, pleased that she had been able to make others fear her. The Assistant warden looked at her.  
  
"We won't get any trouble from you, will we?" He said, keeping his eyes on her scorpian tail, which could lash out at any moment and take off a limb -- or a head. The guards in the back didn't move until they were commanded to do so.  
  
"Oh, give me a break," Jigai said. "Don't I need all the strength I can get to survive in that damned human world?" She threw back her head in a chilling laugh, which excited the nerves in the guards before her. The Assistant warden flicked his hand a bit, and the guards moved forwards and secured her well. The gaurds shackled her wrists together and put metal cuffs over her individual fingers, which would keep her claws in if she decided to take a few slashes at the guards. They shackled her ankles together as well as her second pair of arms, which they locked to her front pair, making it difficult to move. Cuffs locked her tail to a back restraint on her shoulders, making it virtually inable to move. The Assistant warden held a key to all this metal, and Jigai had her hawk eye on that the whole time. Last, they fastened a mask-like object over her face, to discourage biting with those knife-like teeth. She didn't bother fighting, no, she would make it interesting later.  
  
~*~*~  
  
"Jigai Shoshitsu. You have been sentanced to banishment from the Monster world into the Human world by a council of your peers for the crime of murder. Do you have any last words?" The Warden summed up the trial in a couple of mere words. A guard moved foward and removed the mask from Jigai's face, and she breathed out silently. Her eyes looked drained, but they still looked a feirce as ever.  
  
"Sure do. Here's my last two words: F**k you." She said, smirking with a look of victory. The Warden sighed, but he was used to her verbal abuse. It seemed to be common in her speech, sarcasm and abuse, and anyone who wants to be around her (or is forced to be around her) has to learn to deal with it. His eyes shifted a bit as the top executive at Monsters Inc walked in, late.  
  
"Hello. Sorry I'm late." Sullivan said, taking his position. He was a volenteer for throwing the condemned to their last home, ever. His large blue arms were built with pure muscle and no fat, and he could easily overpower any monster around his size or smaller.  
  
There was a scoff from the left side as another late member of the banishment team, Nyomi, ran in with folders in his hand as his four legs clicked against the linolium floor of Laugh Floor B. He looked like a cenutaur, with black fur and silver-colored hoofs.  
  
His eyes were silver as well, and had a sense of arrogance in them at all times, as he was always strutting around like he owned the place. The only reason he was even on the Banishment team was his distant relation to Sullivan, which was basically an "aunt's uncle's son's mother's dog walker" issue. No one was really sure if he was related or not, but he seemed to believe he was top-class.  
  
Nyomi dropped the folders and the papers scattered all over the floor, into a big mess. The restraints had been removed from Jingai and she had her hands against her sides like mothers do when they find their child stealing cookies from the cookie jar before supper. The look in her eyes was all amused.  
  
"Having trouble, butter fingers?" Jigai smirked. Even though it was the end of the day, the bright colors on the former Scare floor bothered Jigai. She was still a scare-monster at heart...or more or less, a destroying monster, and she (like some others) didn't appove to the change of scare to laughter. It struck her as true that the fact that laughter was stronger then scream may indeed exist, but she still didn't approve of it. To her, it was a matter of dignity and respect to the terminology of "monster." What they basically did was change it into "comical" monsters, like the kind she saw on the television she intercepted from the human world.  
  
The results were positive, but the idea was truely sickening. Many groups on the internet had revolted against this, since they too believed it went against their dignity, but Jigai never really participated in any group activities or clubs (or cults, for that matter). She was always a loner, and a loner she would always be. That is, until she had to learn to live in the real world where humans ruled and monsters were childish fantasies tossed into the garbage for other options in life such as work and money.  
  
Jigai's nerve endings crackled with electricity as she was forced to sit through a reading of her rights and why she is to be banished. It was tormenting, and she believed they did that just to get on her nerves. Still, she had to wait for the right time, for if she acted a moment too early, her whole plan would be ruined. She thought about other things, the mistakes she could make in her plan, exc. She occassionally nodded her head automatically every few moments so that it would look like she was listening, but she really wanted them to shut up. It was a perfect manuveur, though it seemed so simple.  
  
Nyomi yawned a bit and pawned through the papers, his fingers touching the card to the door every once in a while. There was a special set of doors from all around that blasted human world, each one for a banishment. The associates would sit around all day and discuss the condemned and the twelve doors, to figure out which one would cause the most pain and torment. It was a sick practice, and Sullivan didn't quite approve of it, but his job was to watch the energy charts and make sure the company doesn't go down, and all that political stuff. He had little power over the authorities.  
  
Jigai cracked her knuckles and fingers loudly and rudely in the middle of the speech being given by the Warden, which made a silence fall over the group. Since there were no spectators allowed at a banishment (For the sake of the condemned, to save their dignity) the ones silenced were the Warden, Sullivan, Nyomi, and the Assistant Warden and his six guards. There were none others to appear there, and it was meant to be that way.  
  
Jigai looked out of the side of her eye towards Nyomi, who looked distressed, bored and anxious all at the same time. It was an amusing sight, and she knew that he just couldn't wait until the moment when the Warden told him to "load the door." She was amused by his childish anticipation, the thrill to actually load the door the condemned will be thrown (literally) into. She knew that he probably wasn't even supposed to be here, but the Warden had to do something to get him off his back. She had seen Nyomi once and a while at the prison, and damn he was more annoying then the other prisoner guards.  
  
Jigai crossed her two sets of arms, the fingers tapping the biceps accordingly. She was out of thought now, and had to actually listen to what the Warden was droning on about.  
  
"... and therefore you ... .... .... monster world ... ... ... murder ... ... ... to the door which shall ... .... never to come back ... ..."  
  
Well, some of it she listened to, she was far too interested in what everyone else was doing. The guards looked bored, like it was their coffee break and they were wasting it by attending the banishment of another convicted criminal. She tapped her fingers lightly in sync with each other, like she was hearing some sort of inaudible music in which she was following the beat with the pulse of her fingers. Slowly, her finger's pulse began to slow down as she became weary.  
  
Damn depressants...She thought to herself. They had injected her with something fifteen minutes or so ago, and it was beginning to take effect. She could almost see a lifebar beside her, ripe with red blocks for energy, but then slowly going down lower and lower. She shook her head. No, this would mess up her plan! Why didn't she think of this before? In all of her planning and scheming, she didn't expect the depressants until earlier. She should have acted before...now is the time!  
  
"Load the door, Nyomi." The Warden said to the cenutaur monster. He nodded in excitement and grabbed the card. He dropped it in his excitement, but picked it up swiftly lest he be embarrased, and swiped it as fast as a human could swipe a credit card on a shopping spree. A door began coming through on creaky hinges, because it hadn't been used for a long while. The door was splintered and had growths of moss all over it, like it had been sitting in a moist corner and forgotten for years.  
  
The big steel doors were often used for banishments, Jigai noted to herself. She didn't know how exactly she knew, but it just popped into her thoughts somehow. This door was wooden and looked like it was manufactured hundreds of years ago. Heck, it looked like it was about to fall apart at any second.  
  
"You have been condemned to the human world for your actions. May the god bless your soul." The Warden said, as Nyomi chuckled lightly while the red light turned on.  
  
The Warden nodded to Sullivan, and he advanced towards Jigai, hoping to "escort" her into her new home. Sullivan advanced slowly and carefully, though, for he know who and what she was, and he had learned from many a mistake not to underestimate the strength of these criminals. He had a reasonable amount of wounds from underestimation, and he proceeded with caution of the experianced.  
  
Jigai didn't move a muscle, but not at her own will. The depressants seemed to be muscle relaxers too, and she was starting to believe she wouldn't be able to carry out her plan. She mustered all of her strength, then as Sullivan was a mere foot away, she suddenly sprang fowards like an unleashed coil under pressure, and her void black claws were brought down on Sullivan's face, one of them brushing the heavy fur on his cheek and causing no damage, but the other was far worse.  
  
The claw got caught on his lower eyelid, tearing his face down like a cat on a rampage. The cut was jagged and stretched off to the left, going a little towards his left ear. The attack didn't puncture his eyeball, thankfully, but a bunch of blood was suddenly gushing from his face, and he didn't even realize it until the pain registered in his mind. He let out a howl of frustration, and picked up the almost immobalized Jigai and tossed her roughly into the door held open by the surprised Warden.  
  
Jingai, on her way into the creaky portal noticed that Nyomi had seen his first mishap in the banishment business in his miserable life. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and the deed was worth it to see that. The last image she saw was a blood stained floor, when she whirled into another dimension. She twisted around to land on her six feet, but gravity and the force of Sullivan's throw played their cards against her, and she landed with a sickening crack, somewhere in the human world...  
  
~*~*~  
  
  
  
Woohoo! Done with chapter 1^_^ Please review and tell me whatcha thought! I plan to do the next chapter soon...I kinda like my story...o_o by the way, I never have an outline, I put stuff in as I go along so feel free to make suggestions. I appreciate all comments. ^_^ I don't like flames, but I can live with them. Heheh... 


	2. The Adaptation Process

The Last Stand By Julie K. ( kossmoe_chan@hotmail.com ) Fanfiction.net name : Perished Hope  
  
Author's Note: Do you have a water buffallo? *tilts head*  
  
Copyrights: Monsters Inc., of course, isn't mine. Nor will it ever be, unless I suddenly win the lottery or the owner of it dies and I'm the nearest living relative, but what's the chance of that? ^_^;; Anywhoo, Jigai and Delilah are mine, of course, as are the ideas and all concepts related to this story. Wow, I sound too informational... I must be sick or something. *Twaps self*  
  
~*~*~ Previously...  
  
Jingai, on her way into the creaky portal noticed that Nyomi had seen his first mishap in the banishment business in his miserable life. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and the deed was worth it to see that. The last image she saw was a blood-stained floor, when she whirled into another dimension. She twisted around to land on her six feet, but gravity and the force of Sullivan's throw played their cards against her, and she landed with a sickening crack, somewhere in the human world...  
  
~*~*~  
  
Chapter 2: The Adaptation Process  
  
~*~*~  
  
The wisps of the willow tree swayed delicately in the breeze. The placid current of air disheveled itself around the wisps like a weaver would interlink strings on a cool autumn day. The sun was towering in the sky and the water beneath reflected all above it like a crystal mirror with gentle waves in it.  
  
The tree's generously proportioned trunks dwelled innate in the water, as their roots extended down half a mile beneath the facade of the water, almost contiguous to the Cypress trees. It was one of Louisiana's last remaining swamps, the Honey Island Swamp. There weren't any houses in close proximity for the reason that of the Government policy to defend one of the last remaining natural swamplands, but the occasional motor home or two along the outer reaches every few months wasn't too innovative.  
  
Though the water near the outside of the swamp was so translucent that you could see the bottom, the water near the innards was as smutty and dirt- ridden as a lethal waste garbage dump. Grime, foliage and mire swirled around in it, giving it a repulsive manifestation. Under a microscope, many scrounging and infinitesimal creatures could be seen in that water. The water was peaceful, until a deposit of froth escaped to the top and popped.  
  
The disturbance in the water grew larger until a waterlogged head erupt out from the water, the algae and dirt clinging to her fur. Jigai coughed up water and muck and tore at the algae, which hung over her left eye, blocking its vision. Aggravated, she looked around to find someplace to get out of that accursed water. The closest thing she could see to land was a peninsula-like mound that connected to the bog. Her six appendages were beating as rigorously as they could, but she was no water monster.  
  
Finally, her limbs found solid ground under them, and she dragged herself onto the neck of land, still coughing up water and dirt. She blinked her eyes numerous times until the film of her eyelids flushed out all of the invading dirt and microorganisms. She shook like dogs do when they get sopping wet, and looked up at the sky to study it. The sun was high in the sky, and the dampness was appalling. She smirked in repulsion, as her fur clinged to her skin awkwardly.  
  
She brushed the algae and plant growths off of her with a solitary swipe of her claws, shredding them as they fell to the ground without a sound. The humidity was almost unbearable for someone with as much fur as she did. She at least needed to get it dry and not so clingy, she considered. She sat back on her haunches and looked around, hoping to find someplace to escape the mess of a marsh. Her thoughts kept running off towards the humidity, and she had to focus to keep them off of it.  
  
She wandered over towards a sagging tree, and sheltered herself beneath it. It was fine enough, for the moment, until she could find something a little more fitting. She groomed her fur, and the heavy way that the slush stuck to her fur made her psyche recollect something fairly related...  
  
~*~*~  
  
The sky above was tinted crimson with the setting of the sun. There was a high wind chill factor that day in Monstropolis, and most people were packing up for the weekend's pleasures. The Friday afternoon had come and gone, and the time was beginning to advance upon seven o'clock.  
  
The ocher grasslands outside of the industrious metropolis were silent, yet it seemed that even if they perished they'd go to the grave with their music still within them. The wind softly pushed them around, and the whole area seemed to be moving in motion as one. Darkness was beginning to exhale out on the plains as the clock slowly crept forwards, charging ahead, stopping for no one. The location was an idyllic place to hang out for the nocturnal monster children.  
  
At least it used to be, until that night occurred.  
  
Delilah Dispewer put a stool up alongside the refrigerator in her parent's apartment and reached. Two of her four fingers brushed against something firm on the top, behind a vase containing random coupons and letters that her parents had received from time to time. The papers had been in the vase marked 1975 for years, collecting dust. Delilah figured that to put her possessions behind it was a great idea, since no one seemed to remember that it event existed.  
  
A paper fluttered out of the wide vase and landed beside the stool. Pausing briefly, Delilah picked up the paper and studied it. It was a news clipping, yellow in age, dated 1979 by a faded felt tipped marker. A pen had scratched out part of a clipped-off article on the side, but she could read the article that was to be preserved well.  
  
Scientists discover cloning secrets A team of research scientists sent to the human world find out that their clones have a genome that renders them immune to the toxic response of humans and human children. The clones become more independent with each step the research team takes, and the few they desire to study have been returned to the monster world and have undergone rigorous testing. The clones don't appear to have any form of self-consciousness, but they show all the characteristics of living things. The scientists are carefully monitoring the clones' responses to various situations they are put into. The research team hopes to create powerful monsters that can gather more scream than any biological monster. The process may revolutionize the scream industry.  
  
Delilah pondered over the idea to herself, and wondered why they were bothering with scream when laughter was ten times stronger. It then occurred to her that this article had been posted at least twenty years ago, and she cast that idea out of her mind. She placed her hand on the top of the refrigerator and smiled. Putting her hand back towards her personals behind the vase, she slipped the article back into it. Grabbing her items, she jumped down from the stool and pushed it back under the table, which was against the wall.  
  
The stool wasn't the only thing under it. Boxes of papers and binders had been thrown under there, as well as storage cases of goodness knows what. It was dusty and dirty under there, but Delilah didn't mind. The items she had recovered were a flashlight and a lighter. She hid the lighter, knowing she wasn't old enough to hold them, and being only of the ripe age of 11. Her mind was alive with possibilities, though, of other things she could do with the lighter. It wouldn't be too difficult to get a cigarette from some of her inner people--she had many people inside the lines of the city.  
  
She smacked herself mentally for the thought and placed the lighter safely into the purse she was carrying. She held the flashlight up and turned it on, following the little circle of light with her eyes as she moved it about the pastel purple wall. She disregarded the activity as silly, for only the eight year olds played light games upon the walls with a flashlight. She was on a mission--she and her two other friends were going to have a campfire tonight.  
  
It was the time of her life, since she had never snuck out of her house before. She heard of teenage monsters revolting against their parents and leaving home, but she never really considered herself ever doing that. She was like the kid at school who always pretended like they were on drugs, but was too afraid to really try it. She was more of a hypocrite, she talked like she hated people who did that, but nonetheless she did.  
  
She was a slim monster that stood on two strong legs, and she had two strong arms with four fingers on them each. She was a silvery color with void-black eyes that reflected anyone whom looked at them's image. Tiny spikes jutted from her back onto her tail, which ended with a club. The club was a pale green color, like the insides of her flabby wings. The wings weren't good for gliding or flying until she got older, she was told. She couldn't wait until she could really soar. Then she would really be free.  
  
She walked with the steps of a mouse towards the front door of the apartment. She slowly turned the knob and opened the door, then slipped out into the pale moonlight.  
  
--  
  
Delilah panted a little, finally making it to the outskirts of the fields. The moon was high overhead, and she suspected it was at least seven at night. The days at Monstropolis were short during those days, and a Friday night was the best to make a campfire. Delilah began trudging through the fields, pushing the long stalks out of her way without thought about it.  
  
She stepped on something wet, and she rose her foot to inspect it. It looked like a maimed animal, and the blood had soaked into the ground. It looked fresh, just killed. Delilah took a step back, suddenly feeling like she wasn't supposed to be there. Her fears escalated as she heard a scream pierce the pitch-black night...  
  
She then found herself running ahead blindly, not knowing what she was running from (or to.) She didn't even consciously register she was running through a field soaked with blood. Suddenly, her foot caught on something and she fell, face into the dirt. She scrambled back up, not wanting to take a good look at what had tripped her, but she was almost sure it looked like a severed hand.  
  
She could feel blood splattering against her face and body as her feet kicked up the blood. It caught her as funny that it almost felt like it was raining, but raining blood. She let out a desperate, choked cry, and kept surging forwards. She saw a flash of red in front of her face, and suddenly there was a large black creature standing in front of her. When she looked again, she realized it was only the dark shadows that made the creature seem black, for it was really a gray blue color with glittering yellow eyes. Delilah remembered how psychotic those eyes had looked, how the anger and senselessness had been swirling around in the pool of gold.  
  
She noticed visible bloodstains all over the monster's fur, but what she remembered the most was what horrified her for years to come. In the monster's hands was the severed heads of the two friends of hers that she had meant to meet. The monster's claws flashed as they gripped the skulls of her friend's heads. It looked like their eyes had been torn out, and fresh blood was beginning to accumulate at the monster's feet.  
  
Though only a few moments dead, the faces of her friends had already began to take on a waxy and gray look. They were pale, nonetheless, and their eyes held voids of black, but Delilah could have sworn she saw some faded blue light deep in their sockets. One of her friend's jaws had been almost torn out, as it hung at an uneven angle that no jaw should ever hang at.  
  
Adrenaline pumped through Delilah's veins, alerting her every sense. She instinctively dropped the purse she was carrying. She took a step back from the horrible scene, and the yellow-eyed monster watched her. It's stare was burning through her, when she noticed her wings were beating rapidly. She was taking in quick, deep breaths, and her heartbeat had escalated greatly. Her wings beat faster and faster, when she started to feel herself being lifted from the ground.  
  
The monster with the hawk-like eyes lunged forwards, dropping the heads and swiping at Delilah with out-stretched claws. Delilah screamed and fell back on the ground, sprung up like a rubber band released, and sprinted as fast as she could. It was then she began to appreciate being part of her school's track team. It was the first time she had ever been able to fly, and it was the last time until she was 18.  
  
---  
  
When Delilah reached her house and pulled herself behind her door, she was shaking with tremors and crying. What she saw tonight was something no one was ever supposed to see, not when he or she was eleven, not ever. She sunk to the floor, weeping, her arms around herself, hugging herself as she cried silently. She knew her parents weren't home, nor would they be home for a long time, since they worked a night shift somewhere she didn't know.  
  
Through her tear-blurred eyes, she saw something floating down towards her. First she moved away, until she saw it was a piece of paper. She wiped the tears out of her eyes and picked up the paper, squinting to see what was on it.  
  
The faded marking saying 1979.  
  
She cried silently more, and pressed the paper against her chest, not even questioning how it floated down to her in the first place. If it weren't for those few minutes she spent reading the article, she would have been in the same situation as her friends. She couldn't shake the images of her friend's heads, how lifeless their eye sockets seemed, and all the blood...  
  
The child fell into clinical depression for two years before she started to open back up again. Until that time, she had no friends and her life was miserable. Delilah Dispewer wanted to die.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Jigai awoken suddenly at the sound of thunder cracking. It was dark now, or at least semi-dark, as the sun had almost began to set in the horizon. She uncurled herself from her sleeping position and raised her head, looking around instinctively. She stretched and felt her fur--it had begun to dry. It was still damp, but it wasn't sopping wet like before. She was thankful it hadn't begun to rain, but she could sense it may in a couple of hours (or moments). She needed to find shelter, and fast. She began to walk like an animal, on her six legs.  
  
She weighed her possibilities. She could cut a shelter out of the trunk of a tree--they were certainly wide enough. But no, that would take too much time and made her exhausted. She kept thinking. There was also the possibility of building a den underground from the side of the dirt where the water level raised enough to make a cave-like entrance, just without the cave. She sat, considering it. It seemed to work, because the ground was wet. It would be just like making those small snow caves in the mountains of snow she used to see in Monstropolis's outskirts.  
  
She peered over the side of the cliff-like mountain of dirt, and then jumped down onto the dirt below. There was what looked like a small bay, which led to the water itself. She wasn't sure what lived in the water in the human world, but with her claws and blade she figured she could take care of anything. She sheathed her claws to keep them from getting dull, and began to work.  
  
--  
  
Jigai sat back and admired her work. She had dug a five-foot long and five foot deep hole into the side of the dirt cliff. It wasn't an apartment in Monstropolis, but it would do just fine for her first night in the human world. In there she could plot whatever she wished to plot, and scheme as much as she wished to do. It had to be well into the night, and she was a nocturnal monster. She placed some disguise materials over her new shelter, to discourage human world creatures from taking it.  
  
Jigai crept around the swamp for a while, not straying too far from her shelter. She made a quick perimeter check at the end of her journey (she was satisfied for the time being, and starting to get weary), then started to head back to the shelter. She could see the sun beginning to rise, and she crept towards her shelter. She walked along the Cliffside of the dirt, hearing the echo in the dug out cave. She heard that and felt pleased.  
  
She jumped down from the cliff and landed on the soft dirt, feeling it squish between her toes, and she hated it again. She moved the leaves and debris away from the entrance and walked inside, then lay down. She was about to close her eyes when something outside caught her attention. She lifted her head as her hawk-eyes looked around, searching for the thing she saw. Maybe it was just her imagination.  
  
But there! She saw it again! It was like branches moving by themselves and a swirl in the air-currents. She growled a bit and closed her eyes-- engaging her personal special ability.  
  
She slowly felt her own molecules beginning to break themselves down to mere atoms, then stabilizing themselves so they would be strangely unstable. The chemical reactions in her system caused a strange effect to happen. Her opacity began to fade, until she had reached full invisibility. Not camouflage, but true invisibility. She crept out of her shelter, making sure not to make obvious noises. Though she was truly invisible, she still had her mass and weight.  
  
She followed the air current movements, trying to detect a scent of some kind. Finally, she found one; it smelled of a mix of dirt and peppermint. Strange. Maybe it would lead her to a place where she could forage for food. Heck, maybe this creature could be food. She didn't have much knowledge of creatures of the human world, and she didn't know if they could go invisible. She also didn't know of the tastes of human creatures. Maybe they'd taste good...  
  
Her thoughts were on a good human-creature dinner when the creature finally materialized in front of her. It was a purple snake-like creature with eight arms, two sets used for walking. It was holding a dead creature-- rabbit, she knew, it was one of the few things she knew about in this human world-- in its first set of arms. It was almost a pastel purple, with hard scales that were so tightly packed together that Jigai wondered how she was going to sink her teeth into this one. Perhaps crack through the scales...She looked at it curiously, wondering what kind of human-creature this was. Finally, something flashed into her mind. Wait. Something about this creature rang a bell.  
  
It wasn't a human-creature... it, too, was a monster! 


	3. The Beginning of a Tale

The Last Stand By Julie K. ( kossmoe_chan@hotmail.com ) Fanfiction.net name : Perished Hope  
  
Author's Note: Wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yer? See the løveli lakes. The wonderful telephøne system. And mani interesting furry animals. Including the majestic møøse. (From Monty Python and the Holy Grail)  
  
Copyrights: Monsters Inc., still belongs to whoever owns it, whom is sure not me. It might be me, but I certainly don't think so. I bet the majestic møøse knows, but for the time being, I don't. Disney owns it. There I go again, contradicting myself... again, Jigai (Please excuse the 5 million times I call her Jingai, typos kill me but I'm lazy) Delilah, Ravel, Dr. Banes, and Jennifer Banes were created by me and I'd appreciate it if they aren't used without my permission, along with the ideas I incorporated with this story. And there you see the longest run-on sentence in existence. Oh, well.  
  
~*~*~ Previously...  
  
Her thoughts were on a good human-creature dinner when the creature finally materialized in front of her. It was a purple snake-like creature with eight arms, two sets used for walking. It was holding a dead creature-- rabbit, she knew, it was one of the few things she knew about in this human world-- in its first set of arms. It was almost a pastel purple, with hard scales that were so tightly packed together that Jigai wondered how she was going to sink her teeth into this one. Perhaps crack through the scales...She looked at it curiously, wondering what kind of human-creature this was. Finally, something flashed into her mind. Wait. Something about this creature rang a bell.  
  
It wasn't a human-creature... it, too, was a monster!  
  
~*~*~  
  
Chapter 3: The Beginning of a Tale  
  
~*~*~  
  
Sullivan had bandages littering his face, and he sat in a hospital bed. He was rendered unconscious by the pain Jigai had caused him, and the paramedics had brought him over to the hospital to try and treat his wounds. Not much could be done, but they at least disinfected them and bandaged them up. The only thing that could be done was to sit around and wait to see if he got better. An optic specialist was to come in the next day to examine his eye, to make sure no damage had been done to it directly.  
  
Sullivan's eyes flickered open, and the rush of pain flooded his consciousness immediately. He groaned a bit and looked up at the ceiling. It was a shiny white color and reflected his colors. He felt the freezing cold of the hospital beds, and sighed.  
  
"Sully, buddy. You're awake." Sullivan looked over to his right to see Mike Wazowski sitting in a white chair next to his hospital bed. The table next to Mike was littered with random "Get well" cards from people from the company, as well as some edible treats as well. Sullivan sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he could make the pain just simply blow away.  
  
"Sully? You okay?" Mike asked, leaning forwards a bit. Sullivan looked over at Mike again, and Mike could see the pain in his eyes. He was instantly shushed by the strange look. He'd never seen that look in his eyes...since that one day they had been banished to the arctic and he missed Boo with all his existence. Mike was saddened, but it was hard to douse his light, humorous spirit. He had a knack for cheering people up, and he hoped it would work with Sullivan...  
  
"Yeah." Sullivan said with a lot of effort placed into it. His voice was almost cracking. "Yeah, I'm okay." He saw the look of worry that was in Mike's eye, but there was something else there, too. Pity. He didn't want Mike to pity him. He could worry, if he desired, but he didn't want him to feel pity.  
  
"How about you hand me some of those cards," Sullivan said, trying to seem perky. Mike gave him a look of suspicion like he had caught up with his plan, but he didn't refuse his best friend's wish. He grabbed a handful of the "Get Well" cards and handed them gently to Sullivan.  
  
"Well, something good is that you're at least being covered on Laugh floor A. Filled in by some monster named Ravel Thwin. He's pretty good at his job, though he talks about how he wished the Scare floors were back. I've been thinking about his proposal to making extra floors for those who still have their heart in scaring. What do you say?" Mike said, trying to report as much as he could in one breath. Sullivan considered the idea for a moment, but came to a verdict quickly.  
  
"No. No, I don't think so. Ever since I met Boo, I realized that scaring was wrong, basically. Children aren't even toxic--they made that up to keep us thinking scaring wasn't wrong--thinking they deserved it for trying to hurt us. If you think about it, it begins to make sense," Sullivan explained. "Did you ever notice that no one ever actually got hurt when they came in contact with child-infected things?"  
  
"Yeah," Mike said, considering.  
  
"Who's this Ravel character, anyways? I don't think I've heard of him. How'd he climb up the anarchy anyways?" Sullivan asked, lightly rubbing the bandages on his face, but his hand shook badly from the pain of even touching it. He withdrew his hand in defeat and laid it down beside him. Mike paused a moment to think on how he'd reply.  
  
"Well, y'see, I haven't heard of him either. He just seemed to appear out of nowhere. In some weird way, he reminds me of Randall, and that's something I don't want to be reminded about. He looks more like a scarer then a comedian anyways." Mike said, sighing.  
  
"I'll have to meet him someday." Sullivan sniffled and remembered his bandages and the pain surged back to his mind. "That is, if I ever get out of this hospital."  
  
"Eh, you will big guy. You will." Mike said, a strained smile on his face. Sullivan looked at that and felt comforted. He could at least rest knowing someone was filling in for him...but something in the back of his mind told him that he should be concerned. He felt it within, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was...  
  
He hardly heard Mike saying goodbye as the nurses flooded in, telling him that visiting hours were over. He heard Mike saying that he was his best friend, and he had a right to see him, but the nurses didn't seem to care. His weary eyes watched as Mike was pushed farther and farther back, until he just gave up and walked away, heading back to the factory to hopefully keep his mind off of Sullivan.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Ravel Thwin's eyes moved around suspiciously, sweeping from one end of the Laugh floor to the other. His scarlet wings were folded tightly against his back, and his limbs were steady and un-moving. He was a tiger-dragon monster--one that could walk on four legs or two at will. His body was whiter then the palest face and had black tiger stripes on it(it was slightly furry, but more like peach fuzz then actually fur), and he had eyes of silver-violet. His cat-like claws were black, and his gray horns (they protruded outwards as opposed to curling around for the sake of him being able to ram into someone with them) were more of a metallic gray- silver then dull gray.  
  
His eyes were narrowed as he watched his target slowly move down the aisle to his position. His target couldn't see him--he was hidden behind a rack of laugh containers. Though he couldn't camouflage or turn invisible, he could still not be seen when he wished to be. The target moved closer, and all of the muscles in Ravel's body tightened up.  
  
Three...Two...One...  
  
"HEY WAZOWSKI!" Ravel shouted, jumping in front of the green, one-eyed monster. Mike recoiled in a lack of breath, and fell backwards in surprise. It took him a moment or two to get his sanity back, and he was irritated a little more then amused.  
  
"What the? Ravel! What the heck are you doing?" He asked, his one eye narrowing in pure annoyance.  
  
"Simple." Ravel smirked, clicking his black claws against the tile floor. "Roz sent me. You forgot to file your paperwork, again! Not that this is new--but she wanted me to sent you to her. Heh, heh." Ravel smirked again, amused by his own surprise method. Mike didn't look in the least amused, but he understood that Ravel was a little more immature then most monsters, though he got the job done.  
  
"Why don't you just tell me like normal monsters do, and stop wasting valuable laugh-time with your silly, immature jokes!" Mike hissed back. Ravel made a fake pouting face.  
  
"Aww, Wazowski. What in the world happened to your sense of humor?" He asked, rearing back onto his back legs. Mike looked at him curiously, trying to decide if he was being serious and naive, or if he was just taunting him.  
  
"You try and be happy and normal when you're worried sick about your best friend--who was brutally attacked by a mad murder!" Mike sighed, and looked away slightly. He wasn't in the mood for Ravel's tricks, nor was he in the mood for Roz's lectures on how he needed to learn to turn in his paperwork. In fact, he didn't even want to be here, he just wanted to be at home where he could mope all he wanted without getting sidetracked. He had though that being at the factory could help him forget for a couple of precious moments, but all it did was make his pain worse.  
  
"Don't worry about him. He'll deal. He's a strong monster. Now hurry, before Roz skins me for holding you up." Ravel gave Mike a look of distaste.  
  
"Eh. You'd make a nice carpet," Mike said, and Ravel wasn't too sure if he was complimenting his pelt or poking fun at his previous statement. Yet, as he thought about it, it didn't quite matter. Ravel flapped his wings, sending a current of air, which made Mike move a bit from its power.  
  
"Now, hurry up you procrastinator! It's your fault that I can't do any of them laughing things right now, you and your paperwork," Ravel said, notably saying 'laughing things' with much distaste. As Mike began to walk off (obviously not in any hurry to see Roz, he was going pretty slowly) a thought came to Ravel's mind. As Mike moved farther away, Ravel went on all fours to catch up to him, then briefly went back to his hind legs when he caught up with him.  
  
"Hey, Wazowski... Did you ask Sullivan about what I said?" He asked. Mike turned around and looked at him, like he was going to answer his own question. He then remembered Sullivan's answer.  
  
"Sorry, buddy, but Sully refused the idea. He said something about how children don't deserve to be scared." Mike paused for an answer, but none seemed to come from the dragon-tiger monster. In fact, Ravel looked slightly surprised, like none of his ideas had ever been rejected before. Mike was amused by Ravel's stunned silence, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to enjoy it to its fullest. He knew Roz, she was "always watching" him. It creped him out, and he didn't want any more attention from Roz then he needed to get.  
  
"Anyways...I'm gonna go file that paperwork now, I guess...urk...stupid paperwork..." Mike said, and continued to walk to the front desk. Ravel stood there, his wings tight against his back, still in the stunned silence. His violet-silver eyes were cold and empty.  
  
"Sir? Are you okay?" Asked a random monster associate who had noticed the state of mind that Ravel had been in.  
  
"Yes, do I not look okay to you?" Ravel snapped back, and then began to pump his wings. The Associate nodded feebly and went back to his own business. Ravel smirked and began to lift off from the ground. He beat his wings evenly as he flew across the Laugh floor to the balcony above it. There, he walked a bit until he was in a tunnel-like thing that was on the side of the wall in the Laugh Floor A. He faced a blank wall, but he was smiling eerily. He continued to walk, about to run into the wall.  
  
That is, until he passed right through it.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Dr. Alan Joseph Banes tapped his pencil on the pad of paper he held in his hand. It was blank; he had just bought it from The Shop around noon the previous day. It was a half-price day, and he was constantly filling up his notebooks. Since they were only fifty cents that day, he had bought ten new notebooks to add to the collection he was collecting in the containers under his bed. The one he planned to use now had a blue cover, a Visine 100- Page notebook.  
  
Dr. Banes always had an outstanding memory, but something always seemed to cling to him. He was always jumpy and nervous in dark places, and he lived in a room with no closet. Dr. Banes, though he was a doctor of Psychology, knew a truth that no one else could remember, since it would have happened so long ago. Normally, the incident was erased soon after as television and video games and peer pressure came into play, but not for Dr. Banes. No, he would always remember.  
  
"It was a cold and lonely night," The 35-year old professor would start, to anyone who was willing enough to listen. Most people would listen only to mock him thereafter, but Dr. Banes never seemed to care. He totally believed his own story, and he was desperate to get others to believe it, too.  
  
"The drapes were drawn, but the wind still blew with the ferocity of a tiger. Shadows were playing their games on the walls, until they had turned to watch. The closet door creaked...and a creature stepped out from behind it."  
  
At this point, most people disregarded the professor as crazy or delirious. A couple, however, asked him what this 'creature' looked like. Dr. Banes would adjust his glasses and begin the description.  
  
"Large...it reminded me of a spider with two bulky arms. All I can truly remember is those eyes...so many eyes, yellow and staring at me... when it jumped and roared at me. I screamed, and it seemed satisfied, backing out of my room and shutting the door behind it. That's all I remember..."  
  
The door to Dr. Banes' room creaked open, and he looked up from his notebook at the person who just entered.  
  
She was about 5' 4'', with brownish-red hair. She was wearing a dark blue shirt and tight medium blue jeans. Her eyes were purple-ish, and her complexion was fair. Dr. Banes smiled--it was his only daughter, Jennifer Banes. The child was 13 years old, and her eyes were soft and knowledgeable. She didn't believe that her father told the truth...she believed that he was making up this whole thing about monsters. She had never seen a monster, nor would she ever.  
  
In fact, she hated it when her father told his stories about the spider- monster. She had heard it many times and knew it by heart--but she never believed a word of it.  
  
"Hey dad... I was wondering if I could borrow some money to see a movie with my friends. Jan's mom is driving us," Jennifer asked. Dr. Banes considered it-- Jennifer wasn't the kind to be going out often. She usually just sat on her bed most of the time, drawing her little creatures. She had a cat named Neko-sama, which Jennifer had told him meant "cat" in Japanese. He was proud of his girl, and happy to for fill her few wishes.  
  
"Sure. How much do you think you'll need?" Dr. Banes asked her. Jennifer said that she'd need about ten dollars, five for the ticket and five for concession money. He pulled out his wallet and took out a ten, then handed it to her. Jennifer smiled, said her thanks, and began to walk out the door. Dr. Banes resumed tapping his pencil against the notepad when Jennifer looked over again.  
  
"Dad...you're still trying to prove that monsters are real?" She asked skeptically. Her once true wish would be her dad would stop lying to her about the monsters, and she longed for the day he would say he wasn't trying to prove it anymore, and that it was all a simple joke. That day never seemed to come, but she still hoped with all her heart. Her friends always gave her strange looks because of her father's opinions, though she was straight out to say she didn't follow them. Everyone always just seemed to believe the old saying "The apple never falls far from the tree."  
  
Jennifer didn't have a mother; she had died in a car crash seven years ago. Her mother had been Dr. Bane's second wife, since his first wife died in a car crash as well seven years ago. People often said that Dr. Banes was jinxed to always loose someone every seven years. He was jumpy now, since it had been seven years since his wife died. He was over-protective of Jennifer, but he knew when he just had to let go.  
  
"Yes, darling, I am," Dr. Banes said, and yet again, Jennifer was crushed by her father's beliefs. She closed the door behind her, and headed towards the front door. Monsters aren't real. They are just something that people talk about in myths, stories and legends to scare little kids into behaving. She knew that her father couldn't have seen a monster. Maybe he was hallucinating--or dreaming. It was in the middle of the night. Monsters just couldn't exist.  
  
Or could they?  
  
~*~*~  
  
Jigai crouched down, still in her invisible spell. How on earth did another monster get here? Hmm...maybe she was wrong. Maybe this wasn't another monster. Its possible that one of the human-creatures that existed in this world may look like a monster she had seen before. She studied the creature again. She hadn't heard that any animals from the human world had four pairs of legs, but she may be wrong. After all, she wasn't an expert on human-creatures.  
  
The purple creature looked around briefly, its expression changing slightly. It looked down at the rabbit with a look of disgust, but she figured the creature didn't have a choice. She hadn't heard of animals actually being choosy over their food--maybe this was a type of human. No, that was silly, humans looked like two-legged creatures with arms they don't use for walking. Nothing like this...  
  
She remembered that someone once told her that no creature in the human- world, except for the humans themselves, could actually talk and understand language. Most of the human-creatures could only make indistinctable noises from deep in their throat, or just make noises with no particular meaning to them. (Though she noted that a bunch of humans do that often as well.) She thought it was a good test for this creature. If it wasn't actually a monster, it could make a nice meal...  
  
Still invisible, she began to speak to the purple creature.  
  
"If you are a monster and not a human-creature, speak now." It was a preliminary request, but it suits the job. Jigai watched as the creature turned around, bewildered and a bit frustrated, looking around for the source of the disembodied voice.  
  
"What the...?"  
  
"So you are a monster," Jigai said, materializing a couple of feet away from the other monster. The other monster whirled around; satisfied that he could finally see the place that the voice had come from. Jigai was instantly taken aback from his rude comment.  
  
"What did you think I was? A human?" He growled, giving the other monster a flat look. Jigai sneered at his rude reply. She was a criminal, all right, but she really disliked it when people gave her smart-talk when she just barely met them. It was always a good way to go towards the violent Jigai, to the least. There were basically two personalities to Jigai Shoshitsu-- the violent one, and the one that was calm and understanding. The violent Jigai often pushed above the consciousness of the calm one, whenever something occurred that displeased her. That's when she got mean.  
  
Jigai's claws unsheathed, and the other monster's eyes instantly looked to them with caution.  
  
"I didn't ask for your smart-mouth remarks, Monster. I asked to find out if you were of my species, or if you weren't. That's all," Jigai sneered. Her clawed fingers flexed, and the claws glistened in the early-day moonlight. The sun was just beginning to rise.  
  
"Yeah, whatever..." He smirked. "Stop calling me 'Monster,' too, I have a name. It's Randall Boggs, so use it." Jigai studied him to see if he was even worth giving some of her respect. He certainly didn't sound much like someone who deserved respect, but she knew that sometimes people had bad first impressions. She, herself, hated first impressions, so she wasn't going to take this Randall Boggs too seriously.  
  
"Indeed, Randall Boggs. I am Jigai Shoshitsu-- you are to call me by my name as well, to return the favor." She gave him a fierce look which basically said 'And if you don't, you're seriously screwed.'  
  
"Right--Jigai-- Why are you here? I bet that furry cretin and his associates destroyed the door that I came through, but I doubt there are many other doors around here," Randall smirked a bit, then added, "I was banished for evil plots...heh heh...and trying to kill James Sullivan." Randall looked like he was victorious, when Jigai snort-laughed.  
  
"Really? I was banished for intentional mass-murder." Jigai was amused by the shocked look on Randall's face. She smirked, and then added her own spice to her reason. "And, of course, the small token of basically cutting Sullivan's face up."  
  
Randall stood in silence, shocked considerably. It took him a couple of moments to really realize what was going on here-- he had been banished to the same swamp as a convicted murder! 'This...isn't gonna end well...' Jigai looked at Randall with her eyes filled with bloodlust and sadism. Her claws shined visibly in the dull light, and Randall realized this might be his last moment to live.  
  
-----------  
  
Author's Note: Talk about a total cliffhanger! XD I shall leave you in suspense until the next chapter! YAY! We're building up some plot here =^^= 


End file.
